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by Dark K. Sly
Summary: Maybe, sometimes, he misses Derek. Perhaps, once in a while, he even thinks about him, late at night, wonders if he's sleeping okay, if they are eating right, if Derek can forget Boyd and Erica for just a few seconds and stop being so miserable. /smutt/


Stiles doesn't really get what it is that goes down with Cora and Derek before the final showdown they have – after all, he isn't there when Scott and Derek apparently clean the floor with Deucalion's little wolf-y ass and then Derek is off into the night with his sister – leaving their creepy uncle behind, but it's okay, Stiles can deal with that, especially because things seem to calm down a bit after the whole thing.

Maybe, sometimes, he misses Derek. Perhaps, once in a while, he even thinks about him, late at night, wonders if he's sleeping okay, if they are eating right, if Derek can forget Boyd and Erica for just a few seconds and stop being so miserable.

Scott mentions that Derek is a Beta now, and Stiles doesn't really get it, because, well, it doesn't seem fair and, at the same time, it makes perfect sense.

With Derek as a Beta they defeated Peter.

With Derek as an Alpha they had the Kanima, the zombie uncle, the Alpha pack and the Darach after their asses.

All in all, it seems to Stiles that they are way better off with Beta-Derek.

Weeks go by and they have no news of Derek or Cora. Peter is around town, that much they all know, and Scott is getting his act together to actually _be_ an Alpha – it's not because he turned one that he'll magically know how to deal with the power and the responsibility he now has. Once or twice, Stiles actually hears him saying that he now understands why Derek was so weird at the beginning.

Allison and he are not back together. She isn't _really_ with Isaac, but Stiles has a feeling that it has more to do with the fact that Isaac pretty much defers to Scott as his Alpha now than them not _wanting_ to be together. Scott has told Isaac that he's fine with it, but the blond kind of shrugged and let it go, and that actually warmed Stiles up to him a bit – Scott could use some more people who think about him first. Maybe he could pick up a few lessons on how to be a good friend from Isaac.

Lydia and Aiden are still going strong, even if she denies they have a _relationship_. Stiles has, well, moved on. Not really _moved_ , though, because it's not like he wants to be with anyone right now, but he isn't hung up on her anymore, and they actually have a weird friendship, in which they talk and study together, but they never hang out just for the sake of hanging out – Lydia claims he still annoys they hell out of her, and he just assumes that some things just don't change.

Things are calm. Things are good. It's not paradise, but it beats running for their lives every second of every day, and now that his dad _knows_ about the whole werewolf stuff, it gets easier for them to get back to normal.

Of course, something has to happen to disturb the peace and quiet, because this is Beacon Hills, and this is Stiles's life, and if there's one thing he's absolutely certain of is that he's never going to be completely free of the weird that goes down in town.

Never.

 **X**

Weirdly enough, he's coming back from a complete normal activity when his life goes to hell in the most definitive manner possible. There's a school project, his partner lives near the preserve, he goes over there for them to finish a PowerPoint presentation and rehearse the whole thing and, when he's heading back home, sun setting slowly over the trees by the side of the road, he sees the Camaro parked haphazardly by the side of the road – of parked can even be used right now, the black car is… kind of thrown to the side, out of the main road, but not really parked or out of the way.

It _is_ Derek's Camaro, though. His brain is weird and retains information like crazy, and he knows the license plate for Derek's car like he knows his own and, frowning, he parks his car – in the right way, thank you very much -, checks for his phone, because he isn't stupid, and he isn't going into the forest without his freaking phone, and goes in, looking around.

For about three seconds he considers calling out for Derek or Cora. Then he reasons that maybe they are in danger and he doesn't want to draw attention to himself. He also debates calling Scott, but ends up not calling him – what if he worries everyone and it's just Derek taking a stroll through the woods now that he's back, or maybe Cora walking around, and he calls the whole pack, and it becomes a thing… well, he doesn't.

Holding his phone in his right hand he walks a bit and looks around – no sign of any Hale around. Maybe he should keep looking.

Or maybe he should just go home, really – if they are back in town and haven't called them _at all_ then maybe they don't want anything to do with them. He's about to walk back to his car when he hears a groan from a few feet away, behind some trees just out of sight.

This is the part when, if he had any sense _at all_ , he'd go back to his car, and he'd call Scott, but he doesn't want to play the damsel in distress here, so he walks towards it, slowly, looking around every few seconds, expecting to be jumped at any second, but he isn't.

He can see a dark green shirt when he gets close enough. Jeans. Black hair, and Derek's skin – pale, like it was on the day he almost died from wolfsbane poisoning before Scott found the bullet to save him.

"Derek?" he calls when he's close enough, seeing now that the man is barely standing up, leaning against a tree, his eyes closed, his skin not only pale as he had seen before, but also dripping with sweat.

" _Fuck_ " the man mutters, turning around, leaning against the tree again, his face hidden from Stiles, "Don't…" he starts, but can't seem to finish the sentence, taking in a deep breath.

"Dude, are you okay? Were you shot again, do we need to find bullets or something?" he comes closer as he's speaking, but Derek doesn't turn around again, just keeps taking deep breaths and exhaling harshly, as if in deep, deep pain – and not the emotional kind, which he seems to be in all the time anyway.

"Peter" Derek says, his voice rough, like Scott's voice gets when he's wolfing out, "Peter did… something."

It's not a lot of explanation, but it _is_ something, and Stiles is still confused, but not really surprised: they _knew_ Peter had to be scheming something, he even helped them get rid of the Kitsune a couple of months back, certainly he was planning something evil, and, well, there you go: Derek in pain.

"Did he poison you? Hurt you? What do you need?" he fires the questions too fast for Derek to have time to answer, and the man seems to lose an internal battle, because he falls to his knees, groaning again in pain, probably, shaking his head.

Stiles comes even closer, kneeling beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder with no hesitation.

"Derek, what do you need? Tell me what you need" he demands, his eyes wide – they have gone through way too much for him to watch Derek just suffer and die in front of him without trying to save him. It just isn't in him to let things like this happen.

Derek turns to him then, his head bowed low, his breathing labored, and he seems to get a bit less shaky, sitting up more fully, raising his head slowly.

And suddenly Stiles can see his eyes, and he realizes he's quite fucked up right now. Because Derek's eyes are blood red again.

Derek is an Alpha again, and it has something to do with Peter.

This just cannot be good.

"Whoa there, buddy." He starts to back away slowly, but Derek growls and he stays, trying to decide what to do, "You do remember me, right? I'm Stiles. You do not want to kill me, I'm kind of squishy and human, but I am… _pack_ " he tells him, trying to bide his time and he almost falls down when he sees Derek _smirking_ at him.

Stiles swallows hard and prays he'll make out of this alive.

"Yes" Derek breath is haggard, but the smirk is still on his face. "I know you're pack – my pack."

Stiles feels the hair in the back of his neck stand – Derek has never said anything like that before; he always had a violent streak, a loyal practice to the ones he considers _his_ , but Stiles never _belonged_ to him.

"No" he reminds the man with a soft voice, "No, it's Scott's pack."

Derek's eyes shine, red and fierce, before he speaks again.

"No, you're mine. My own. You _came_ to me."

Stiles has never felt so creeped out in his life - it sounds like Derek, looks like Derek, but there's something different, something new, a deep thirst that he has never seen, even when he was the Alpha before. The man laughs, and it's a heartbreaking sound, because instead of mirth it speaks of anger and bitterness – and it hurts even more because the sound feels so completely _Derek_ , even more than his usual harsh words. It breaks Stiles a bit – he can't stop wondering what on Earth Peter did to him to get him like that, so far gone that he doesn't even bother to hide his pain anymore.

"Derek?" Stiles calls, his voice quiet, "What's going on?"

"I had no pack" the man answers, leaning closer. Stiles takes a steeling breath, trying very hard not to freak out and run away – isn't there something about wolves and chasing? Yeah, he'd rather not give any kind of chase right now, "I _need_ my pack, Stiles."

"You are Scott's pack, Derek, you know he would _never_ kick you out," but even before he stops speaking Derek is already shaking his head, denying his words, and he stutters to a halt, not knowing how to go on. He seems angrier, all of a sudden, really mad like Stiles hasn't seen him before.

"OF COURSE it would be you" Derek spits out, his body trembling. "It couldn't be just - I don't know! Anyone. Everyone. You. Here. Alone. _You_ had to come to me. Why?"

"I saw your car on the road and…"

Derek doesn't seem to really care to hear his answer, he grabs Stiles's shirt, pulling him closer. He has to put his hands on Derek's shoulders to stop himself from crashing onto the forest ground. There is a challenge in Derek's eyes, one that Stiles can't fully understand – or maybe he just doesn't want to, because opening that door is asking for pain and heartbreak and a whole lot of other things he has no desire to go through again, not after Lydia.

"No. Why do you _always_ come to me?"

He sounds so _broken_ , so completely _alone_ when he asks that, as if he can't quite grasp the concept of someone _wanting_ to come back for him, to stay by his side.

"Why is it _always_ you? At the station, in the pool, in the hospital, it's _always_ you."

"I…" he begins, but he doesn't know how to go on, because he doesn't _know_ why is it always him. He goes back because he likes to think that Derek would go back for him too. That he wouldn't abandon him, that he'd do anything possible to save him, just like Stiles does – that he wouldn't hang up on him when he really needed it, because Stiles never did that, not even once.

Not even when they didn't even like each other.

"Why don't you ever have the common sense of just _staying away_?" Derek's voice is not even mad anymore – it's exasperated, tired, as if he's fighting a losing battle and doesn't care about the results anymore. Or maybe because he _knows_ all of the outcomes, and they don't quite matter to him.

"You're seriously creeping me out, dude" he tells the Alpha (red eyes equal Alpha, right?), trying to get some space between them, but he can't, because with every move he makes to get away, Derek's hands on his shoulders tighten.

Derek takes in a deep breath, as if he's savoring something, coming closer and Stiles's heart misses a beat, his eyes widening. Oh, God, this is wrong, this is fifteen kinds of wrong – possibly more.

"I just…" the man starts, one of his hands slowly coming down Stiles's side to hold onto his waist, "I just need…" he can't seem to finish the sentence, his eyes glowing dark red again.

"Okay, this is good, tell me what you need" Stiles babbles, "I can get it for you and then you can let me go, right?"

"I just need to _have you_. I need you to be _mine_ " Derek's words have a slight growl in them at the end, and Stiles freezes momentarily, because for all that he's dealt with a hundred different crap from werewolves all over this town, but not even _once_ did any of them seemed to _want_ him _._ Not like this.

Actually, except for Scott, not like any way else either – Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Jackson, Aiden, Ethan: all of them seemed to think of him as a bother, as dead weight. Even after he's tried time and time again to overcome their expectations, to show them he can be _useful_ , that he can save them as much as they save him – actually, _a lot_ more than they do.

And now here's is Derek, wanting him – just… _wanting_ him. This is crazy.

Peter must have poisoned him.

It's the only answer.

"Derek, you don't mean that. What you need is to let me go and get Deaton or Scott, and then we can fix this."

"I don't have to fix this" Derek answers him, the hand on his waist going lower, under his T-shirt – cold, _freezing_ hand, by the way, and there are goose bumps all over Stiles's skin, but it's because he's freaking _cold_ , okay? That's it. Nothing else.

Derek starts leaning towards him and Stiles doesn't quite try to move away – he can blame it on shock, sure, but truth is he just… he just wants to see what it'd feel like, okay? He's thought about this so many times and now Derek is here and willing and telling him he _wants_ him, and… And then Derek's lips are on his – it's not quite what he had expected. He thought _he_ would be more prepared. That he'd try to guide the kiss himself, that he'd give Derek a fight, but truth is that all he can do is sigh and hold on to Derek's shoulder as the man takes his mouth, biting his bottom lip, tongue tracing his lips, before fucking his mouth with it, in and out a few times, and Stiles forgets how to breathe, _what is air even_ , really? Who needs air when he can have _this_?

Derek kisses like he does everything else – as if the world is ending and this is the only way to save it. He puts everything into it, pulling Stiles closer until he can feel every inch of Derek's chest against his, his breathing hard, his teeth on Stiles's lips.

"Freaking hell" he mutters when Derek lets go of his mouth to bite his neck – small, easy bites – not enough to turn him, Stiles doesn't think, but teasing and he _can't freaking think_ because Derek is _everywhere_ around him, his hands, which had begun on his waist, on his shoulder, are now holding him by the waist and neck – he can feels Derek's nails on his neck, pressing him close, tilting his head back, baring his neck.

"Want you so fucking _much_ " the Alpha tells him, his right hand letting go of Stiles's waist slowly, coming down the front of his pants, slipping past the waist band of his jeans and underwear, and all Stiles can do is lean his head against Derek's shoulder and _bite_ him, forcefully, wanting to draw blood, because he's a _wreck_. He doesn't even realize his arms are locked around the man's shoulders, moving his hips in rhythm with the hand on his dick, and Derek keeps whispering _filthy_ things in his ear, and Stiles is babbling something about not expecting to lose his virginity in the freaking forest, but Derek only chuckles at him, moving faster, stronger, _harder_ , and Stiles comes in his pants like the teenager he is, pliable and dazed in Derek's arms.

Derek mouths at his neck slowly, and Stiles can't quite focus on him enough to _get_ what he's saying. He's nodding along because he's just… he's freaking _amazing_ , okay? And yet, Derek seems to be asking him something, and he can't _focus_.

"I can't, _never_ , even if changes. I can't see you with someone else. I want to do this to you forever" Derek is saying, when the ringing in his ears subsides and he can _listen_ again.

He just takes a deep breath and gets away from Derek's neck – who knew one could grow attached to a single piece of anatomy so _fast_? – staring into the man's eyes – still red as blood.

Derek tangles their hands together, bringing them to his chest, running their hands together down his chest, setting them on his hips. He lets go of Stiles's hands after squeezing them, as a warning to keep them there, and grabs Stiles's hair at the back of his head – not _gently_ , Stiles doesn't think Derek can _do_ gentle right now _,_ but carefully, and then, without letting the teen go, he pulls himself up. Stiles moves with him, as if they are magnetized now, circling around each other.

Derek's breathing is still hard, and now that Stiles is kneeling by his feet, his head aligned with his crotch, he sees the bulge inside the man's jeans, and he swallows dryly.

He _did_ that. He did that _to Derek Hale_.

With his free hand, Derek starts unbuttoning his jeans, never breaking eye contact with Stiles, opening the button, pulling down the zipper and freeing his cock. Stiles swallows hard at that, looking up at Derek, unsure and at the same time _wanting_ this so freaking much.

He runs his left hand on Stiles's hair, bringing him closer, eyes never leaving his as he wets his lips, his other hand running over his dick slowly, hard and just _there_. Sure, he's been in a locker room thousands of times, but he's never, _ever_ , been this close to another guy's junk.

And _especially_ not after being given a handjob.

"I want to mark you" Derek says, his voice quiet but so certain, eyes burning and Stiles can't look away. He doesn't answer, and it seems like Derek isn't really expecting words out of him, "Just me – I don't want to see anyone inside your mouth but me – do you want that?" He rolls his hips once, and Stiles thinks he might _die_ right now, from lack of air or just from how _hot_ Derek sounds. And Looks. And just _is_.

"Oh, God, this not fair" he mutters, but Derek comes closer, and Stiles moves almost involuntarily, his tongue coming out, licking just the tip, closing his lips around it and getting away again.

Derek's eyes close and he moves again, as if chasing the contact lost when Stiles gets back, moaning quietly.

"Let me do it, Stiles. Let me mark you. I want…" he starts, but never finishes the sentence, his hand grabbing his dick again, running through the whole length, and Stiles follows the movement with his eyes, wanting to give it another try, but a small, very, very small, almost inexistent by now, part of his brain that is still functioning tells him that this _marking_ business can't be as easy as it sounds. This will bring _consequences_ , this won't be a blowjob, a pat to the head and a let's do this again sometime – no. This will be something _big_.

"I need you" the man tells him softly, eyes pleading now, red just around the edges, looking so _human_ , Stiles is leaning forward again before stopping himself, his brain foggy and needy, and he wants this _so much too_.

"How can you do this to me?" he asks, his voice wrecked, "I… I can't – I won't… Scott…" he tries, he tries very hard to find a way to say no, but it all seems so stupid right now.

"Please, let me mark you – I need… You're the mate I want. Will you let me, Stiles?"

He doesn't even register that he's already moving forward, his lips closing around the tip, slowly making his way down, taking a bit more every time he moves, and Derek is caressing his neck, his hair, not forcing him down, but not quite letting him get away.

"Will you let me pull out and come all over you - your mouth, your face, your neck?" he asks, voice husky, and Stiles groans around Derek's cock, almost chocking, forgetting to pull away before going too far, "Will you taste it and drink it and let it through your body?" His eyes snap up, Derek's shining bright red, nothing soft or gentle about him now, just hard breathing, commanding and imposing, and oh God, Stiles is going to die because of this, but he can't even bring himself to care, because it sure as hell will be the greatest way to go, "Then everyone will know, forever, that I'm yours and you are mine - just mine and no one else's. Will you stay with me again, this time? For good? I can't wait to see you with my cum all over you. Marking you. Oh, _fuck_ " he gasps then, hand moving faster at the base, as Stiles tries to take him in a little more, and then Derek is pulling him away, but keeping him close, hand on his hair as he comes on his face, his neck, his hair, and Stiles can't even move, he just… takes it, because well, it seems like he's just signed up for a whole life of weird, and it might as well extend to how he loses his v-card.

Derek is still panting when he gets to his knees again, hands rubbing his own cum on Stiles skin, bringing him close, and running his tongue on Stiles's cheek down his neck, closing his mouth there, sucking at it, until Stiles just _knows_ there'll be a hickey tomorrow. He bites at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and then comes back up again, pulling him even closer and kissing him again, and all Stiles can do is kiss him back, tasting cum on Derek's tongue, and it's even weirder than he thought, but really, what is knowing what Derek Hale's cum taste like from his own mouth compared to _werewolves_?

Derek looks at him for a moment when they break apart, just _looks_ , and Stiles starts to get nervous – maybe this is where Derek tells him the he's ready now, for the sacrifice, and opens Stiles with one of his claws and eats his liver as a part of some ritual Peter concocted to be powerful again.

But Derek doesn't eat him. Doesn't threaten him or pushes him away.

Derek leans forward very, very slowly, pecks him on the lips, closing his eyes very slowly.

"Thank you" he whispers against Stiles's lips, and Stiles only nods.

Truth be told, Derek is very, very welcome.

 **X**

Stiles opens his eyes knowing exactly where he is and how he got here, because he's in his own room, and he _drove_ here.

Sure, Derek followed him home in his own car, and waited until Stiles was safe inside his house before leaving.

Stiles had showered, wondered around his house for fifteen minutes in a complete daze and fallen sleep, because _what the hell oh my god_ and that's all he could think.

So when he opens his eyes, the only surprise he has is Derek sitting by his bed, as if he's been watching him sleep.

"You are breaking all the scales for creepy, Dude. Seriously, Edward Cullen is going to come here and kick your ass for taking his post as the creepiest hottest dude ever."

Derek huffs at him and has a small smile on his face.

"I could kick Cullen's ass to the moon and back."

Stiles blinks at him because… well, what else is he supposed to do. They keep staring at each other, Stiles on his side on the bed, Derek on the floor, eye level and calm.

"Are you going to explain to me what happened last night or…?"

"Peter."

"Yeah, I gathered that much. I'm more interested in how come creepy zombie wolf wants you to get into my pants?"

Derek looks down for the first time and takes a deep breath.

"When Scott became the Alpha, Peter thought he'd have a chance at syphoning his power from him, as he was his maker. It didn't work, so he came to find me, tell me you were all in danger, you needed me here, because he _knew_ I was getting my Alpha status back. He poisoned me. Tried to kill me, but I got away – except I had no pack, and the specific kind of wolfsbane he poisoned me with, well…"

"What?"

"It _would_ have killed me if I hadn't… found someone I _wanted_ as my mate. My pack. I… considered you pack, more than I ever did Scott. So I wasn't alone, and I felt… compelled to come to you, because if I were alone, I would actually die."

"So… you weren't, like, roofied on crazy wolfsbane last night? You wanted that?" he asks, his voice small and squeaky.

Derek smiles then, looking down.

"Did it feel like I didn't?" Derek asks with a playful smirk, "Because if you think that, then maybe I'll have to explain some things to you."

"Shut up."

The man keeps looking at him, though, and Stiles sighs.

"I sense there's something else."

"When I marked you last night, I… marked you as my mate. As mine. My pack, my _mate_."

"Like, what, your werewolf boyfriend or something?"

"A bit more permanent than that" he tells him, and waits.

Stiles blinks once. Then again. He sighs, rubs a hand over his eyes and sighs again.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Derek repeats incredulous.

"Okay. I kind of… like you a lot too, okay? Dude, I got into a dark forest where horrible things happen all by myself just because I thought you might be in danger. I'm actually not _that_ stupid, I wouldn't do that for just anyone."

"Okay" Derek repeats, swallowing drily.

Stiles smiles brightly at him.

"You are telling my dad the news, though. I'm sure he'll love it."

And to his dying day, Derek will deny that he almost fainted at the thought.

Stiles, though, will have the picture to prove it.


End file.
